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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171262">Left Turn on Red (Part Two)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/skymageariel/pseuds/skymageariel'>skymageariel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>31 days of The Dragon Prince [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Modern, Modern AU, School, Soccer AU, bad driver, school au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:34:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/skymageariel/pseuds/skymageariel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Callum’s near fatal mistake, he and Rayla have some catching up to do.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>31 days of The Dragon Prince [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946767</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Left Turn on Red (Part Two)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Instead of turning on a light, Callum quickly became frustrated in the dwindling sunlight, squinting at the page in his sketchbook. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. The chances of it being someone important were exceedingly slim. Instead, he brought his knees to his chest, his sketchbook resting on them, close to his face. He’d switched from pencil to pen a long time ago, working on the lineart of the stoplight outside the school. He remembered it as he remembered everything- in perfect (and excruciating) detail. It was a four way street- the pavement glistened with the aftermath of a small rainshower, and puddles had filled the potholes nearby. Store windows in the shopping center off to the side reflected into the water. The roads were mostly empty, though Callum swore to Rayla that there was not a car in sight. In complete honesty, he didn’t actually know if the way was clear. He hadn’t bothered looking both ways. In the same way he hadn’t bothered to put on his seatbelt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun sank and disappeared, but Callum didn’t seem to notice. His phone buzzed again, and again. And again. And again. But he didn’t reach for it. The energy he’d had throughout the day had significantly diminished, eliminating all desire to answer the phone. Whoever it was could wait. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rayla sat on the front stoop for just shy of an hour by the time Ethari got home. He hugged her and apologized profusely, promising to make it up to her, promising they’d decorate for Halloween that Saturday- a whole month early. Rayla laughed, said her thank you’s, I love you’s, and goodnight’s, before making her way upstairs to her room. Shutting the door and locking it behind her, Rayla moved to her closet, searching for one thing in particular. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a minute of overturning dresser drawers, she found it, folded up in a pile of forgotten jeans and t-shirts. Callum’s blue hoodie she stole from him last year. She ran the fabric between her thumb and forefinger, staring blankly at the indigo mass before her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the fabric, sinking to her knees. “I’m sorry I said those things to you. I wish I could tell you what they said to me. About you.” She paused, tearing up. “But I guess I already did.” Standing with shaking knees, she walked over to her bed, hugging the hoodie. “Why didn’t you look both ways?” she asked. “There were cars coming.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Callum opened his eyes. He didn’t remember closing them, which was the issue. He found himself curled up on the floor, hugging his sketchbook so the pages crinkled. The room was still dark, though a faint light streamed in through the windows. Pressure weighted his shoulder as someone’s hand shook him awake. Sitting up slowly, he turned to see his Aunt Amaya, and relief flooded his veins. If it had been anyone else, the secret would have been compromised. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I’d find you here. Your father is worried sick,” she signed, a concerned expression painting her face. She sat down in front of him as he leaned against the wall. “Harrow says you didn’t come home last night. He says that when he called you, you didn’t answer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Callum watched her hands, but didn’t meet her eye. He pulled his sketchbook away, ignoring the impressions the pages left in the skin on his arm, and studied the page he’d been working on last night. Vivid flashbacks filled his head, and guilt filled his thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rayla and I got into a fight,” he said. “I made a mistake. She got really mad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Amaya asked, pulling herself closer to Callum. His shoulders slumped and his head hung, almost refusing to answer. But conversations with Amaya didn’t work like that. She tilted his chin upwards, forcing him to see her ask “What happened.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What else could he do but tell the whole story? Rayla, earlier that day, had asked him for a ride home after her soccer practice, and of course Callum said yes. How could he say no to spending time with his best friend? He knew she’d feel bad if he went out of his way for her, so he lied and said he’d be staying after anyways to work on some paintings in the art wing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Amaya interrupted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could have spent that time working on your artworks, but instead you just sat in your car. Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because,” Callum explained, “If Rayla didn’t think I was staying after anyways, she’d feel bad for taking up my time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the real reason?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The real reason?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nevermind,” Amaya shook her head. “Continue.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He told her about when she first came back to the car. She was livid about something, but cagey. Callum wanted to help, but was met with hostility. He wanted to think that those words were just from a place of anger, but her tone really stung. He couldn’t help but feel like she was mad at him directly, like he’d done something wrong. Regardless, he drove out of the school parking lot and up to the stoplight by Pine Street. The light was red, Callum turned left anyways, and Rayla blew up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She got mad at me for risking our lives, even though I looked both ways and there was no one around. She called me dumb,” Callum signed, eyes watering at the memory. “She called me annoying. She called me a screw-up.” If he were using his voice, it would have broken. The tears in his eyes gathered, falling down his cheeks. “She knows how much those words mean to me, but she still said them. And I can’t help but wonder if it was my fault she was so angry. What did I do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amaya’s face softened, heartbroken. “Did you look both ways?” she asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Callum hesitated, but answered “No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You turned left at a red light without checking to make sure no one was coming.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“On purpose?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Callum.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t look both ways at all anymore,” Callum confessed. “Wherever I am- crosswalk or stoplight. I lost the habit.” He took a deep breath. Dumbass. Annoying. Screw-up. “It’s just easier not to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Callum, this is serious stuff,” Amaya told him. “I’ve noticed something off with you for a while, but now I know for sure that something is wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m sure Rayla and I will make up eventually. And if we don’t, I guess we move on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not talking about Rayla, I’m talking about you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not in a good headspace right now. You need someone to help you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m actually fine, thanks.” Callum stood, picking up his backpack and making his way to the door. Amaya grabbed his arm before he could reach it, sending tingles down his skin. He turned to look at her with a face of stone. She smiled sadly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to help you learn to look both ways again,” she signed. “But first, your family needs to know you’re okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rayla spent the morning pacing in her room. She couldn’t stop playing with her hair, as was often the case when she was anxious. A bunch of little braids fell down the side of her head, none of them sealed off with a tie. Her phone sat face up on her bed, screen blank. After receiving a call from Harrow last night, Rayla had been extremely restless. Callum didn’t come home. He was missing. And the likelihood of it all being Rayla’s fault was very high. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’d called him again after receiving the news from Harrow, but for whatever reason, he didn’t pick up. She’d called Soren and Claudia, though they were further in the dark than she was. After an hour of searching for answers and coming back with nothing, Rayla couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t slept at all, actually. The stress and guilt of the day before kept her awake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though as these thoughts ate her alive, her phone started ringing. She dove towards it, grabbing it with both hands, anxious to see who was calling. Sure enough, Callum’s name came up on her screen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” she answered, breathless. “Where are you? Are you okay? I am so so sorry, I-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rayla, we should talk.” He cut her off, tone dead serious. She held her breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she whispered. “I guess we should.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be at your place soon- are you nearby?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll meet you outside.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that incredibly stressful call, Rayla ran from her room and onto the front porch, bouncing on her toes with nervous energy, where she waited anxiously for Callum to get there. What could he possibly want to talk about? Of course there were a lot of different directions this could take- he would be furious with her; stone faced as he asked her to never talk to him again. Or he’d walk up with a sad smile to break the news gently, promising that she’d been so important to him, but now they needed to go their separate paths. Rayla had severely fucked up, this was only gonna end poorly for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He swore to her that he’d looked both ways. He swore there was no one coming and that the way was safe, regardless of how illegal the move was. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>promised</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Rayla knew she should have trusted him. She should have trusted him, why couldn’t she have trusted him? They were best friends through </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything. </span>
  </em>
  <span>More than best friends. They had been closer to each other than they had to anyone else, sharing clothes, homes, secrets, everything. They were supposed to be inseparable, and yet Rayla had managed to throw a wrench in the works, prying them apart. Of course she did. Of course she’d be the one to drive him away. That’s all she ever did was push people away. It was a miracle he hadn’t left her behind sooner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A car she didn’t recognize pulled into her driveway a minute later. It sat still before the passenger door opened. Callum stepped onto the driveway, fidgeting with his sleeves, staring at the ground. Neither of them moved. Neither of them knew what to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amaya drove me here,” Callum gestured to the car, laughing nervously. “She thought I should take a break from driving for a bit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rayla leapt forward, running across the front lawn in her bare feet, crying with relief. There he was; living, breathing proof that he was okay. She tackled him in a hug, squeezing tight. And though he hesitated, Callum wrapped his arms around her too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry,” Rayla said, voice muffled as she buried her face in his shoulder. “I wish I hadn’t said those things, Callum, I didn’t mean to snap, I-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s… okay.” He kept his voice low. Their hold on the other loosened, pulling away from the hug. But they held each other’s hands, not breaking apart completely. Callum squeezed her fingers gently. He was almost scared to look her in the eye. “I needed to tell you something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You must hate me-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Callum said, offering a saddened smile. “But I- I did lie to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rayla’s face fell. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even know how to start,” he whispered, shifting nervously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you can’t-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t look both ways,” he stated simply. “You were right to get angry with me. I put us both in danger, and I am so, so sorry.” He looked up at her, dropping her hands, eyes shifting between hers, face painted with pure sadness. “And I’m sorry I lied, you deserve the truth, and I don’t  know why I lied, I just-“ he clenched his eyes shut, “All I can do is hope you’ll forgive me someday.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>sorry?” Rayla asked, taken aback. “But- I said those awful things-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And they ended up being justified! I lied to you, and I risked both of our lives for no reason!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everyone makes mistakes-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And everyone has reactions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rayla paused, jaw clenched in thought. “Do you know why I was so upset when I came back from practice?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You cursed at me when I asked.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. The team was making fun of-“ did she tell him? “Me,” she decided, staring at the ground. “They were making fun of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true,” Callum shook his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it is!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then look me in the eye and tell me what happened,” Callum said, softly. He stepped towards her, hand reached out for her to take if she wanted. Rayla glanced up at him, meeting his eyes, filled with kindness and concern. She spoke quickly, all in one breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I messed up the practice and the team got so mad- they started throwing insults at me and I wanted to punch them, and I tried to walk away, I tired to be the bigger person, but-“ she brought her hand to her face, biting the knuckle on her thumb to keep from crying out as tears filled her eyes. “-but then the girl called you a screw-up, and so I hit her and stomped off the field where I got into your car and got angry at you for no reason.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, they were right, weren’t they?” Callum chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I turned left at a red light without looking both ways, that’s a very screw-up thing to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not the point! The point is that they said shit about you that shouldn’t have even been in their mouths in the first place and I snapped. I got the email this morning- I’m off the team because of it.” She wiped the tears that had been falling down her cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ralya, I’m so sorry-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I should be sorry-“ Callum grabbed her wrists, cutting her off. Their hands were interlocked once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess we both have things to be sorry for.” He brushed his thumbs over hers. They stood in silence for a moment, grateful for each other’s company. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How could I hate you?” Rayla pulled him into a hug, kissing his cheek gently as she went. “I’m glad you don’t hate </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she said through a soft smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know I could never hate you.” He placed a hand on the back of her head, running his hands through the braids in her silver hair. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello! thanks so much for reading &lt;3</p><p>ive been kinda down in the dumbs about my writing and stuff and i normally don’t have an isse w this kind of thing but if u could keep  it positive w your interactions w my work that’d be very cool</p><p>again, huge thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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